


Folktales

by vermicious_knid



Category: Hereditary (2018), Midsommar (2019)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid
Summary: ”I miss grandma.” he had said, sniffling, followed by the odd clicking noises he sometimes made that had the air floating with glares of light around them.”I miss my mother too.” She had replied, half-hearing what he had said, but still giving him what he wanted to hear.
Relationships: Dani/Peter Graham
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Folktales

The 31th May queen had a special tenacity, a special power above those that came before her.

The crops dispatched and grew right out of her palm, the sun ever hot on her days of rule.

And it is said, that water never touched her during a thunderstorm, but fire licked her eyes greedily – especially around Valborg each year, when all the bonfires were lit around Hårga. It warded of witches and demons that did not belong, but among these there were notable exceptions.

Like a healthy root grows around a cold, heavy stone.

King Paimon (still a prince, some say) arrived one day in a metal carriage, asking to stay. The elders wanted to refuse him, and the children were curious about his powers. He was a frightening force, intimidating in a sea of white lace and delicate family dynamics. His eyes buzzed with dark meaning, always.

But the may queen, though strict and somber in his arrival (she was often smiling, often laughing at nothing) accepted his presence like she’d known that he was coming, months ago. She had him seated two chairs away from her own at mealtimes– to mark a distance, but still to show respect.

But Paimon was demon-born, and was a beetle amongst the flowers and all things living. Odd things happened because he was present. Flutes made no noise when the children tried to play them, and blood traveled over floorboards.

* * *

When Paimon thought no one saw, he wept among the cliffs where elders came to die.

* * *

Dani, 31th to rule with a special crown made each week with flowers of the corresponding season, gentle daffodils in spring, bursting, pregnant wildflowers in summer and weak, weeping forget-me-nots in fall and winter – was both open and closed-off to strangers.

Paimon knew this about her – knew her blood intimately and could read its thoughts out loud like a book.

But he was of dead matter, and the Hårga was a place for the living, for cherishing, for life. The day came when it was decided that it was time for him to leave them.

But what no one knew was that the two rulers had, despite all reason, fallen in love. If fate had designed it that way or not wasn’t certain.

* * *

It had begun on a night when the moon wouldn’t sleep, and it had driven Paimon to desperation, to shredding livestock to shreds in the fields with a tiny pocket knife.

Dani had been awake too, and was to one to find him and calm him down in an empty meadow. He had laid down in her lap, soaking her white dress bloody and raw as she sang songs of the north.

”I miss grandma.” he had said, sniffling, followed by the odd clicking noises he sometimes made that had the air floating with glares of light around them.

”I miss my mother too.” She had replied, half-hearing what he had said, but still giving him what he wanted to hear.


End file.
